"Why should you feel like an idiot?" Amber asked sharply. "You dated her for a while and she happened to run into us. What were you supposed to do, go back in time and stop yourself from sleeping with her?" There was nothing he could've done, no magic solve-all solution; his past existed whether or not they ran into the people who'd been a part of it. What she needed was to fucking deal.

Amber looked to the side, staring at the not-quite beige wall. Still not hungry. Not even the scent of coffee roused her appetite; too angry at herself. Eric could make her the happiest person in the history of all time, but so what if she kept fucking up? She'd drive him away; she'd make herself give up to spare herself the shame, before he got sick of her. Amber trailed her right hand down her hair, then rested her wrist against the nape of her neck.

She didn't want to say anything. God, everything in her head was so incredibly stupid, this pointless jealousy. Bad enough she had to think and feel these things, why subject Eric to it? He only wanted to eat his sandwich in peace, he'd just said so. He'd complained today that he never knew what she was thinking, but this couldn't possibly count. Telling him she was sorry and that she'd been stupid should be enough, no need to beat the dead horse. Accept the past and move on, that'd do. And so Amber lifted her sandwich and chewed her way through a small first bite, hunger sharpening the taste of mayonnaise.